


When The Child Gets A Gun

by fandomsandshit



Series: Will Solace Before, During And After Percy Jackson's Shit Went Down [4]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Beckendorf is in the middle of a breakdown, Camp Half-Blood (Percy Jackson), Gen, I gave Will a gun, POV Outsider, Pre-Canon, Trans Will Solace, Will Solace Appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomsandshit/pseuds/fandomsandshit
Summary: Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood a day and a half ago, is in the middle of a breakdown from knowing most of his life was a lie, and has started supplying guns to children. He was fine.
Relationships: Will Solace & Charles Beckendorf
Series: Will Solace Before, During And After Percy Jackson's Shit Went Down [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941190
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	When The Child Gets A Gun

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know that I needed Beckendorf & Will friendship until I had written it.

“Do you know how to make a gun?”

Charles Beckendorf had been at Camp Half-Blood for a day and a half. It was a real trip finding out his dad was actually Hephaestus, and he had to live here every summer or year.

(He was one of the lucky ones, they had said. He was claimed soon after arriving. When the red, fizzy hammer appeared above his head, he could hear the loud yell of, “Oh come on!”

It came from a muscular Asian dude, older than him, who stormed off after the shout.

“Don’t mind Jiahao,” someone had whispered, “he’s just mad that he hasn’t been claimed since he arrived here four years ago.”

Beckendorf just nodded awkwardly.)

Now, after being crammed into a steampunk-esque room with two others (Nyssa Barrera and Shane Mitchell), he was looking down at a tiny child, with curly blond hair and soft blue eyes.

“What?”

“Can you make me a gun?” The kid asked again. Beckendorf had to applaud their nerve, getting straight to the point.

“First, what’s your name? Second, why do you need a gun? Third, are you from Texas, because you certainly sound like it.”

Maybe he could have been a bit more tactical, but a kid just asked for a gun, common sense clearly vanished a while ago.

The kid grinned. “My name’s Will, I wanna shoot things because I’m bad at archery but okay with a gun, and I am from Texas!”

“My name is Charles Beckendorf, but just call me Beckendorf, and what kind of gun did you have in mind?”

Okay, maybe not his brightest idea to start supplying guns to literal children, but at least it was something to do!

He stepped out the door, calling to Nyssa and Shane, “I’m building a gun, see you in a bit!” Then, he let Will lead him to the forges. What brought on this fit of insanity from the usually rational and collected Beckendorf? Well, it might have to do with the fact that his dad was actually alive, and an all-powerful being who could smite things. Knowledge really does wonders for his mind!

“I wanna rifle!” Will exclaimed, seeming very excited. The flaw with this, however, was that a rifle would probably be taller than Will.

“Sure, I’ll make one for myself too.”

But who gives a damn? The cops who can’t find them? No.

They were finally standing in front of the forge, and Beckendorf pushed open the daunting iron doors with a huff.

It was a spacious area, but was crammed with workbenches, blueprints and tools. A massive furnace was in the back of the room, with a fire pit capable of a _monster_ fire. Will jumped down the steps and expertly weaved through the mess, before ending up at a relatively clear bench.

Beckendorf had never been in these forges before, and he had certainly never made a rifle and bullets either. But really, how hard could it be?

\-----------------------------------

Spoiler alert: Really hard!

A couple of hours had passed, and Beckendorf felt they were both finally ready. He was mentally congratulating himself when the forge door opened with an echoing clang, causing him to jump a foot in the air.

“Hi Beckendorf!” Will grinned, carrying two plates of food. (When had he left?) “You missed breakfast, so I brought some food down for you! I sacrificed some for you in the hall, but you might want to do it again just in case.”

Wait, breakfast?

“How long have I been down here?” He asked curiously.

“Over a day.”

“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you get me to stop?”

Will placed both plates on the workbench. “I did, but you ignored me. Oh! Fun fact I learned from Cristina in Athena, many demigods believe Jesus Christ was a demigod too? I’m not sure who he was the son of, but there’s loads of theories, such as-“

“Will,” Beckendorf interrupted, “as much as I would love to hear you debunking Christianity, I kinda have something to show you.” He gestured to the two finished beauties on the table.

Will’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped as he ran closer to the guns. “Thank you! They look so cool!”

Beckendorf let a proud smile cover his face. They truly were something to behold, even if they were his first attempt.

“Can we try them out now?” Will asked eagerly. “I wanna practice.”

“After breakfast,” he conceded, well aware that skipping meals was bad (even if that was exactly what he had done). Will slid a plate over to him, beginning to scarf down his own meal.

“Hold on, I thought these were magic plates.” Beckendorf frowned. “They don’t look very magical.”

“I wasn’t allowed to bring the magic plates out, so just got some buttered toast and plonked it on normal plates!”

Makes sense. Beckendorf shoved the toast in his mouth, only now recognising his body’s cry for sustenance. (He was also silently praying that Zeus wouldn’t smite him for not sacrificing himself. He was just so godsdamn _hungry_.)

After another minute or two of quick eating, the occasional choke when someone got a bit too close to suffocation, and no smiting, they were finished.

“Right, let’s test these guys out.”

Will cheered, grabbing one and a few bullets before racing out the door. Beckendorf chuckled, following suit. The sun was a bright contrast to the gloom of the forge, so it took his eyes a minute to adjust. He then proceeded to follow Will to the archery range.

They were getting some weird stares, probably since they made an unlikely pair. A short blond Texan and a tall dark-haired African-American, who only met yesterday, walking around with rifles twice the size of them.

Eventually, they were at the archery range. No one else was there. Perfect.

“Have you ever shot a gun before?” Beckendorf asked, suddenly uncertain if this was his greatest idea.

“Yup.” Will said, clearly more focused on setting up the targets. “Have you?”

“Nope. So sorry in advance if I shoot you.”

Will turned to him then, two targets laid out in a neat row. “You’ll be fine. Just copy me.”

“First, you need to snap the barrel, like this.” Will brought his hand down in some karate move and the rifle basically snapped in half.

Beckendorf tried to copy, bringing his hand down sharply on the barrel. He obviously didn’t do it right, because the gun stayed stiff whilst his hand bruised up. He let out a small yelp, and stared at the gun with betrayal.

“I have to slam it because I have no muscle.” Will declared. “You can just grab it and snap it.” He sort-of demonstrated with his already snapped gun, but he got the idea.

Beckendorf tried that, and was pleasantly surprised when it did what he wanted.

“Now put the bullet in, curvy bit first, and then snap it back up.” They both did that with ease.

Will laid down on his stomach on the grass, and Beckendorf hastened to follow. Then, Will brought the rifle around until it was pointed at the target, the butt placed on his shoulder. He hesitantly copied.

“You wanna put the butt of it on your shoulder, so you don’t hurt yourself with the kickback.”

Beckendorf followed his instructions, and he found himself having fun, despite being taught how to shoot by a seven year old.

“Pull the safety off, aim and fire!”

A resounding bang sounded in the range as Will squeezed the trigger, Upon looking at the target, he found the bullet entered quite close to the bullseye.

“Damn,” he muttered, “how do you get so good?”

“Practice.” Will said solemnly, before grinning widely. “Your turn!”

He copied what Will had previously done, and then lightly pulled the trigger. The kickback was stronger than he expected, and the barrel jerked to the side. A few clumps of dirt sprayed up from where the bullet had entered the ground. He let out a sigh of disappointment.

“It’s ok. You’ll get better! Now reload and try again!”

They did that for a while, just shooting rounds at a target (rather, Will was shooting at a target, who knows where Beckendorf was shooting). Son enough, they ran out of bullets.

“That was fun!” Will exclaimed, bright-eyed and smiling.

Beckendorf surprised himself by saying, “Yeah, it was.”

“I gotta go help in the infirmary now, but I’ll see you later gun buddy!”

With that, he was gone as quickly as he came.

“Gun buddy,” he mumbled, grinning slightly.

He might’ve just made his first friend here.

**Author's Note:**

> A few points to consider:  
> \- Beckendorf has just found out that his dad is a partially omnipotent being, so he's gonna be a bit OOC because he's freaking out  
> \- Will, as a loud and proud Texan, knows how to shoot a gun  
> \- This might be an excuse to actually put my training to use, and I really wanted Will to get a gun


End file.
